


"I Killed Him, Boss"

by shnuffeluv



Category: NCIS
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Interrogation, Mocking, Murder, One Shot, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 20:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15372720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/pseuds/shnuffeluv
Summary: An AU where McGee is a serial killer. Just a scene that's been bouncing around in my head for over a year.





	"I Killed Him, Boss"

**Author's Note:**

> I _probably_ won't continue this, at least not in the immediate future, but I was inspired, so take this scene that I could see happening, I guess?

Gibbs walked into the interrogation room where McGee was being held as calmly as he could, which wasn't very. His movements were jerky, and there was a bit of sweat on his brow. His arms were held stiffly at his sides, and he was growling under his breath. McGee felt incredibly amused, and would have laughed were Gibbs nervous about anything else other than McGee's conviction of a series of murders. Gibbs dropped a manila folder on the table between them, and sat down across the table, facing away from the mirror. "We're gonna get you out of this, McGee," Gibbs whispered. "I don't know how, yet, but I know you didn't do those things. There's no way you could have done this."

"The FBI thinks otherwise," McGee said dully, eyes half-lidded. He would have taken a nap ages ago if his hands weren't handcuffed to the table.

"The FBI is filled with idiots," Gibbs snapped. "Don't let them break you."

McGee ducked his head and smirked. When he looked up again, he made sure he had that small defiant, hopeful smile he knew made Gibbs' heart swell with pride to see. "That's not going to be a problem, Boss."

Gibbs looked confused, and McGee had to bite back a feral smile. He knew there was something different in his inflection when he called Gibbs "Boss." It was more satirical, mocking. Not that Gibbs would attribute it to the obvious. Gibbs would figure McGee was just nervous and as such, his voice was coming out wrong. For someone who claimed to be a trained investigator, he sure was stupid. "This isn't an interrogation, Tim, you know that? I just want to clear the record."

McGee took a breath. He knew he was being recorded, and he was debating just coming clean. After all, there was no way he wasn't going to be convicted. Everyone at the FBI already saw him as guilty, and he had made too many mistakes as a newbie. Those mistakes were now adding up, and they pointed straight to him. "Boss, don't bother," McGee said.

Gibbs stared at him. "Now's not the time to be naive, McGee. They'll eat you alive. You need someone on your side in all of this. You need to think of where you were when the murders occurred. Prove that you weren't there for even one of them. Plant reasonable doubt in their minds."

"I'm not being naive, Boss. They're not gonna clear me," McGee said. He knew it was true, as much as it put a sour taste in his mouth. He was so,  _so_  desperate for someone to acknowledge his genius, though. He was inventive, he had put together new kinds of murders no one had thought of before. He was a one-of-a-kind killer, and he was proud of it. "I know that. And I've accepted it."

"McGee, you have to  _fight this_ , don't you understand?!" Gibbs asked, slamming his hand down on the table in the way McGee hated. "Think! And tell me where you were during the murder, that's an order!"

McGee bowed his head, folding his hands on the table. "It was dark, that night. I was planning on going to a bar," he said.

"A bar's good, it'll have surveillance footage," Gibbs said.

"This one didn't," McGee said. "Camera was broken. That's why I chose it."

Gibbs frowned. "Why would you choose a bar with a broken security camera?"

McGee looked up, unwilling to play naive anymore. His face was bored, and he leaned back as much as he could in his chair. "Because I was planning on killing someone," he said with a shrug.

Gibbs stared at him. "That's not funny, McGee," he growled.

McGee chuckled, a humorless laugh that made Gibbs' face drain of color, which only fueled McGee's laughter. The glint in his eye was malicious as he said, "Who's joking?" He leaned forward and continued. "I went into the back alley, hoping to see someone pretty that I could make use of. And there was your dead sailor. Larger than life, and not that I knew he was a sailor. He wasn't wearing his uniform, must have been on liberty." He shrugged. "Oops."

Gibbs stared at him. His jaw wasn't slack, in fact it was quite the opposite. It looked like if he clenched it any tighter something in his muscles might tear.

McGee continued. "I walked up to him, started to chat him up. He was wasted, in for a massive hangover in the morning, but laughing with me all the same. Until he wasn't. I brought out the cling wrap and the duct tape, and he thought it was some sort of joke, until I wrapped it around his head." He laughed as he recalled the look of pure terror on the young man's face. "He made the funniest sounds after I duct-taped him nice and tight. Tried to run away. All I had to do was stick a leg out to trip him, and he fell into the side of the dumpster. I branded him and went back to my place to write it down. I have it all recorded on my phone at home, it's good stuff. Would have loved to use it in my next book."

Gibbs sat there, staring at him, and McGee blinked a couple times before putting on a sweet voice and said, "Your turn to say something,  _Boss_."

There was silence for a good minute afterward. As McGee sighed and leaned back in his chair, Gibbs stood up so quickly his chair careened into the wall behind him, causing the one-way mirror to shake. Gibbs grabbed McGee by the collar and pushed him into the table face-first. McGee didn't even make a muffled noise of protest. "We've all got an angry side,  _Boss_ ," McGee taunted, looking up at Gibbs. "I just made very good use of mine."

"You're sick, McGee," Gibbs said, and McGee could feel the tremor in his boss' hand as he held McGee down.

"I'm not sick,  _Boss_ , I'm a genius," McGee laughed. "Had I not killed a sailor, I would have done this the rest of my life, never been caught."

Gibbs let go of him, reeling back in disgust. McGee just straightened and stretched his neck. He laughed. "Tell you what: I'll even tell you how many I killed, and how I did it, so long as you make sure I'm put in solitary. The cop serial killer would be dead within days of going to prison otherwise."

"Yeah? You should be, you SOB!" Gibbs yelled, as Fornell and a couple other agents came into the room. "You should be!"

Gibbs was screaming curses at him as he was led out by several of the agents. Fornell righted the chair Gibbs had sent flying and sat down in it. "Ready to confess, then, _Mr._ McGee?"

McGee smirked. "Only if I get my solitary. After all, someone as 'insane' as me can't get much more damaged by not seeing anyone but two or three guards the rest of his life."

"You'll tell us everything?" Fornell asked.

"Everybody I've ever killed, how I did it, and where I keep my writing stored," McGee said, grinning manically. "The writing's the best part, you know. Embellished a bit? Maybe, but it really sucks you into the moment. I'm proud of it."

Fornell unlocked his handcuffs and dropped a paper and pen on the table. "Start writing," he ordered.

McGee smirked and picked up the pen. "With pleasure."


End file.
